Scars: Jack's Final Thoughts
by BraveZero
Summary: Jack reflects on her life and what she's learned aboard the collector ship before going out with a bang. (One-shot) (Pretty dark) (Rated T for Tenacious Jack) Feel free to R


_Why am I plagued by this darkness in my head? My mind feels like a black hole of ever-changing ideas and utter chaos. Nothing makes sense at times, and then sometimes, I feel as if I've solved the cure some fatal disease. In this agonizing decline of my sanity, I've come to realize what kind of person I am. I'm not the knight in shining armor, nor the straight A student, nor am I the next big thing. I simply am. I go with the flow and make the most of it, living life to the fullest in unchallenged mayhem. That's what life truly is one might say, a non-stop tornado with no set course, a ship lost at sea, or maybe even a leap of faith. Nothing is ever certain. . . When stuck in a desert you might see civilization, but it could all just be a mirage. Something you want, something you desire, but something you'll never actually reach for, is a mirage. A façade. Life's harsh reality is one of despair, envy, and defeat. Nothing is ever for certain and because of that the world is one ever-rolling ball of nothingness._

_Every human being is uncertain of exactly what the next day will bring. The next day could be your last or could be your first, it all depends on the path you choose. The path I chose, led to glory. Vengeance. Sweet bitter revenge. It had been chaotic, violent, and best of all, bloody. That was the path I had to take to defeat my mirage and convince myself of existence. That there was more to this world than a pitiful room, simple window, or bed. I grabbed the bull by the horns and rode it right through the single opportunity I was given. On the other side, I discovered the meaning of life._

_I was finally free from the darkness. Free from the needles, the surgeries, the doctors, the medicine, the bugs beneath my skin . .. Even free from the killing. But I didn't want to be free from that. It was my sanity, my love, I couldn't just rip it away like the bugs beneath my skin. It was part of me. The cherished beautiful side. The only attachment I ever developed in the dark. That bond was stronger than the desk, bed, and window combined. No, killing wasn't just a hobby, it wan an addiction. _

_The wet, thick, warmth on your fingertips, the metallic taste on your tongue, the burn in your eyes . . . It was all part of victory as my opponents fell one after the other. Sometimes I would beat their bodies. Mangle them beyond comprehension, amputate limbs for joy, once I even tore a living person's head off. So what, right? The so what is that I enjoyed it. Every wound I inflicted, every drop of blood I saw, and every person I killed brought on a extraordinary sense of satisfaction. Euphoria beyond comprehension. Pure, powerful joy. It was unbelievable, sick, and lovable all at the same time. But it's also why the darkness follows me in my head. _

_I still wake up screaming sometimes. Hands fondling me with tools, my own blood welling in buckets, the straps, the biotic restraints, all of it hissed together resurfaced old pain. Pain I try to forget but can't. Pain that's as much a part of me as killing. Except . . . Painful. There's no sick, twisted joy in pain. No one likes to be hurt. No one likes to suffer. Yet that's all I've gotten in this liberty I fought for. Pain. The pain of betrayal, the pain of love, even the pain of never belonging. It was sad someone like me existed, but hey, too fucking bad if you don't like it. I'm here, and I refuse to die in vain. _

_They called me Subject Zero, but I renamed myself. I fought for my retribution, I earned it. No one can steal that from me, not even a Cerberus army. Said army is welcome to fucking try. I'll see to it I rip their spines out with my bare hands. The stubborn truth is, I escaped Cerberus and took fate into my own hands. I renamed myself Jack, and I like it. It's ten times better than fucking Subject Zero. _

_In the end, Cerberus thought they were so clever. Turns out, mess with someone's head enough and you can turn a scared kid into an all-powerful bitch. Fucking idiots._

_Yet here I am, ready to go out with a bang. _

* * *

The last of Jack's thoughts drabbled away at the collectors approach. She glanced over her shoulder at her squad mates, Jacob and Zaeed cold with death. She blinked once at them, swallowed hard, and stood lighting up a biotic storm. Her body seethed with power as endless collector gunfire died against her biotic barrier. Then, without a second thought, Jack unleashed biotic hell. The massive blue shockwave shook the ground as it lurched forward, tearing apart any collector in its wraith.

The horde of collectors was quickly replaced by another, but Jack could care less.

She fell face first to the ground smiling. By overloading her biotic amps to kill so many, she had ruptured her anatomy. Her heart beat was slow, but fading, and when death finally came, Jack embraced it like a child would a mother.


End file.
